Divided Hearts
by slightlyobsessedfangirl
Summary: An unusual peace surrounds Mystic Falls and for once, Elena Gilbert's life seems near perfect. Her and Stefan are happy, or at least she thinks so. How long can Elena deny herself what she truly feels inside.
1. Peace At Last

**So just a quick disclaimer. Obviously I don't own The Vampire Diaries or any rights, I just like the complexities of the characters and like to play about with them. The story is basically set somewhere around season 2, after Damon and Elena have made up, and I've started whilst there is peace in Mystic Falls. This is NOT TVD, so I'm not going to follow the storyline or anything, I'm just going to let the characters take their own paths, and if the characters aren't an exact replica of those portrayed in the series I'm sorry, but I'm not trying to reproduce it. I'm kinda going to swap this between Elena, Stefan and Damon for points of view. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

It still disconcerted her, even after all their months together. To lean into Stefan's chest and to not feel his heart beating was just … odd. Of course there were a lot of things about Stefan that were _odd_ to say the least, but his stillness still seemed so… may not have been alive but Stefan was still the most human person she knew. He loved more than anyone that still possessed a beating heart, and cared more than those who had not been alive on this world long enough to know the pain that came with the best part? He loved _her. _Out of everyone in the whole world that he had encountered over the past 162 years he chose her. It was that more than anything that left her in wonderment.

The dry catch in her throat brought Elena from her drowsy thoughts, and she heaved her body away from Stefan's. She made to leave for the kitchen when something warm and familiar grasped around her hand.

"You're leaving me?" Asked Stefan, in mock disbelief, his hand pulling gently on hers. A small smile played on his lips. A small smile that left Elena relishing in his ease and comfort.

"Didn't I tell you? I'm running away with Damon, we are **truly** the star-crossed lovers." She returned with a grin. Stefan laughed, but she could feel it catching in his throat. A wave of guilt washed though her; she'd crossed the line. She should have known a damn sight better than to tease him about her and Damon. What was it her mother always told her? 'A joke is only funny if it's far enough away from the truth.' Elena mentally cursed herself.

"You know that'd be funny, if my brother didn't spend every moment pining over you." Stefan replied, his voice edged under the ease of his reply. The guilt again; she _really_ should know better.

Elena highly doubted Damon pined over her every second, and it was 100% jealous Stefan overreacting, but if she were to deny that Damon harbored feelings for her when he'd so much as told her, she'd be the biggest idiot of them all. "I'm just gonna get a glass of water, I'll try not to get lost on the way back." She said with another smile, planting a peck on his check before exiting the room.

"Now now, what do we have here? Could it be the one and only key to my brothers tender heart?" Damon drawled as she entered the room, his eyes wide open, the way they always were when he teased her. It was like a challenge, one she didn't want to uptake.

"Get out the way Damon." Elena sighed, as she shoved him aside to grab a glass from the cupboard.

"Woah there, no need to get feisty, little one." He replied, holding his hands above his head. "Let me get that for you." Damon swiftly grabbed a cup from the overhead shelf and filled it from the running tap. As he placed it into her hands, his fingers brushed against her, sending a spark through her body. Elena quickly regained her composure, and snatched the water from Damon.

"Thanks." She muttered under her breath before quickly departing the room, and leaning against the wall outside. What the hell was that about? Since when had Damon made her heart skip a beat? Had Stefan ever? She closed her eyes, and shook herself off before returning upstairs. She found Stefan curled up in his bed, his eyes drifting over the pages of a book. Elena's lips curled in adoration. At least that hadn't changed. She loved Stefan right? _Adored_ him. Elena plopped herself onto the bed beside Stefan, landing gently on the mattress, before taking a sip of her water.

"I see you found your way back then?" Stefan teased.

"It doesn't help that you're house is an impossible maze." Elena replied.

"Mmm, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. Only took me 145 years." He replied, chuckling. "Now come on over here, I'm getting lonely." He added, with a husky tone to his voice.

No sooner had Elena rolled onto the bed, placing herself side by side with Stefan, than he had scooped her up on top of him. Their chests lay against each other, heavy breaths going up and down. His strong, muscular arms wrapped around her waist, and gently pulled until their lips connected.

He tasted as he always did, soft and sweet, with a gentle hint of coffee. It seemed as though their mouths had memorized each other, moving together in unison. Elena wrapped her fingers through his tousled hair, pulling softly with each kiss. She let out a moan of satisfaction as he stroked his hands ever so carefully down her back, feeling each curve of her body as he did so. As he reached the hem of her cotton top, he stretched it up and over her head, leaving her in her bra and jeans.

Copying him, she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, his breaths quickening with every one. She fell against his warm, muscled torso and suddenly it was him on top of her, their kisses rapid, yet still soft. Being with Stefan was like rolling around a meadow, soft grass and delicate daisies. It was nice, pleasant. And somewhere amongst this pleasantness, she slowed the kisses down gradually, until her body was nestled against his and her mind drifted off into a dreamless slumber.


	2. Drowning in Scotch

**Okay second chapter! I'm actually really enjoying writing, so I hope you guys enjoyed reading the first instalment. It will pick up pace eventually, I just want to get the scene set for each characters POV first so you can see where they're at. Sorry, I really should've added this. Somebody asked if this was a Stelena or Delena fanfic, and the answer is Delena, kind of. I totally ship Delena over Stelena so I really wanted to write about that, so it's starting with Stefana and Elena together as the TV series does, but it's gonna become Delena quite soon. Really sorry, should've added that. **

**Enjoy!**

Damon's P.O.V

Damon's grip on his glass of Scotch tightened as the sounds of Elena's kisses reached his ears. He was just torturing himself, and he knew it. It wasn't like he _had_ to focus on the noise coming from upstairs, but he couldn't help himself. He snatched up the glass, and threw it off the wall in frustration, letting out a grunt of anger as he did so. It shattered into pieces as it made contact, he watched as the alcohol fuelled the fire into an inferno and then, grabbing his jacket, he stalked out the house.

The cool air hit him as the front door closed, and he pulled the zip up tight. Climbing into the car, Damon started the engine, not knowing what he was even doing there. All he knew was that he had to get out of there, to distract himself. For once in his goddamned life, Damon cursed a vampires hearing. The creak of the bed under Elena and Stefan, their hot heavy breaths, it all drove him to madness. Desperately, more than anything, Damon wanted that to be him. It was a selfish thought, he knew. The jealousy rose up inside him like bubbling lava as he let his mind drift, imagining for a brief second that he was the good and honorable Salvatore brother. That he was the one that got the girl. Like that would ever happen he though, with a shake of his head. Slamming his fist against the wheel, he let out a deep breath.

Damon stuck the key into the ignition with irritation, nearly breaking the damn car, and sped off. It felt good to be driving along the empty streets, wind blowing through his hair. Not good exactly, that wasn't the right word. More like the slightest sense of relief. It let some of the steam cool off anyhow. Then, somehow without even thinking about it, Damon was parking the vehicle outside the Grill, and heading to the bar. It wasn't much of a surprise to him to be honest, where else did he find himself when his mind was in a mess? The choices were here, and the living room at the house, and it wasn't likely that he'd want to be drinking himself to forget Elena when she was in close proximity.

The bartender didn't even need to ask. Looking at Damon's sour expression he picked up a glass, and poured in the Scotch. It was like a never ending cycle he thought to himself, as he drained it. Anger, drink, sleep. Anger, drink, sleep. How could someone you loved so much cause you so much pain? And why did Elena have to be so _good_. This whole situation would be a damn sight easier to deal with if she was some kind of cold hearted bitch, like Katherine. Once he'd seen _her_ true colours, he was over her in a flash. He wished it could have been the same for Elena, but part of Damon, deep inside him knew that it was her true colours that he had fallen in love with. Her forgiving nature, her loving heart, and above all her belief in people. Her belief in _him_.

"Let me guess, you're in love with your brothers girlfriend and you think your world is coming down around you?" A familiar voice came from behind him. Alaric slid himself on the stool next to Damon. "The same mind numbing poison my friend is drowning in here, if you please" He added to the bartender.

"Oh Ric, if only you knew how funny you really were." Replied Damon with a shake of his head, and a sarcastic edge to his voice. "Your comedy skills will never cease to amaze me."

"Ah, I'm right aren't I." He retaliated with a grin. "You see your problem Damon, is that you're never depressed and drinking when the whole world is coming to an end, or some mystical being threatens to destroy this town, but when your brother is off with his _girlfriend_. Can't you gain just a _little_ perspective?" Alaric added, downing his glass.

"Ooh ooh, just because _your _love life with Jenna is all sunshine and rainbows, doesn't mean you're now cupid. Look at yourself Ric, you're sickening." Damon said, finishing the sentence off venomously. The anger and jealousy was building up inside him now, burning up his sanity. His hand shook on the glass and his breathing quickened. He turned to face Ric, eyes flashing. What would he know anyway? He didn't know. He didn't know the unimaginable pain that came with loving a girl you could never have. He didn't know the unthinkable torture that came with loving a girl that belonged to your brother. He didn't know what it was like to love, to love so much that it broke you. Just looking at Ric, seeing the happiness in his eyes when he spoke of Jenna, made the jealousy rip him apart. "Can't you just leave? Your presence is beginning to irritate me." Damon snapped, his voice hard as ice.

"Wow, I'm surprised it took this long for my presence to irritate you, must be a new record. I'm going anyway Damon; I'm not going to subject myself to the psychological torture that comes with you at the minute. One thing before I go though, just … get over yourself. This whole brooding over Elena thing is _so_ two months ago, and it's doing my head in." With that, Alaric slid his glass across the bar and stalked out the room.

Damon buried his head in his hands. He knew Alaric was right, the bastard always was. Yet, it was like he couldn't help it. The sleepless nights with thoughts of Elena keeping him awake, the endless anguish that came with watching her and Stefan, alone and happy in their own little bubble. He couldn't help but loving her truly, unconditionally, and it was killing him.


	3. Waking in Content

**Sorry it's taken so long to post this, I guess reality caught up with me. I also found this harder to write this chapter than the other ones, Stefan's head is actually quite hard to get inside. Anyway, sorry again! Thank you to everyone who's read this experiment of mine. **

**Enjoy!**

Stefan's POV

Stefan heard Elena letting out a low groan as she turned over in a tangle of white sheets to face him. He chuckled at her screwed up face, trying to see through the blinding light of the morning. Her eyes narrowed and she chucked a pillow in his direction, but so was so tired, it was sent flying halfway across the room. Still he chuckled, it turning more into a laugh now, but an affectionate one. It was the laugh of someone so very damn much in love.

"So what early hour did you decide on mocking me this morning?" She asked, her voice low and tired. Her eyes were still screwed up, and she'd bundled herself tighter into the sheets.

"Last I checked, 11am isn't _that _early Elena." He teased, and he watched as her expression turned to alarm. "Relax, for once in your life it's a Saturday, and as far as I'm aware there's no secret sinister plot to kill you, _and …"_ He continued, drawling to word out, "I don't even think you have homework." Stefan finished, with a triumphant grin across his face.

Another chuckle came at the mercy of Elena's confused face. "But…" She started, her voice unsure. "That's not right… I never have time to even _do_ schoolwork, not with all the murderous plots that go on around here, never mind actually being free from it." Her eyebrows were still knitted together, but with utter adorableness, Stefan thought to himself.

"Yeah well, guess the gods of misery and destruction that appear to have taken over your life decided to give you a break." He smiled, because of himself more than anything. Ever since he'd come back to Mystic Falls and met Elena it had been one disaster after the next, each one increasingly dangerous. He didn't think they'd ever had a moment like this, just themselves in complete peace. God, it was incredible. He felt so empowered, for the first time in the last 145 years, and so strong. As long as Elena was right there by his side, he could take on the world.

Stefan hauled himself out of the bed and padded towards the door, stretching his arms as he went. "Come on sleepyhead, lets get some coffee in you." He said, looking back affectionately, extending a hand towards her. He watched as she untangled herself from the sheets, and then took his hand in hers. Her hand felt so soft and warm, and it fitted in his muscular one perfectly, like two parts of a puzzle piece. 

The couple arrived at the bottom of the wooden stairs, laughing and giggling together. However Stefan's laughter stopped short as they got into the expansive living room. The embers of a once burning fire had died down, but the remnants of a scotch glass were lying in the coals, and there were several empty bottles scattered around the room.

"You know what this means right?" He spoke seriously as he turned to face Elena.

"Course I do. I've been hanging around here for months, do you really think I've never seen Damon's angry outbursts before?" She said with an exasperated sigh. Stefan's mind whirled. What was with the naivety?

"No, no no no. You don't understand do you?" He groaned, running a hand through his bed messed hair. "Damon does this all the time, gets angry and takes it out the Scotch. But there is _always a reason_. Someone's pissed him off, his plan fails, or god forbid, he can't find a bloody loophole. There's always something."

Elena still looked as confused as she did when she was trying to do math homework. "I know Stefan! What the hell are you trying to say?" Her voice was edged with frustration. Great, now he'd pissed her off.

"Everything is… was … fine! We were okay! There were no death threats; no town of the brink of destruction if we didn't make some sacrifice. But if Damon's like this, then clearly that was a five minute illusion." Stefan rushed through the words, voice rising with each one.

"Why do you put so much store on your brother? He's an idiot Stefan; you know that. Maybe he was just in a bad mood." She said quietly with sympathy. But she still didn't get it. Her life could be in serious danger, it usually was. And he wasn't taking any chances. He knew his brother, and there was _always _a reason.

He didn't get it though. Damon had been in the house last night, and then clearly left. So he hadn't spoken to anyone, nobody had come up to their knees in threats. What was it? What on earth could possibly have happened. A phone call? Katherine? No, he would have heard that. Except, he'd been so wrapped in Elena last night, he hadn't really heard anything. Maybe he just didn't hear it. It still wasn't right though, surely Damon would have come and told him. Stefan held his head in his hands as thoughts went round and round, tying themselves in knots.


	4. Sibling Rivalry

**So, 4th Chapter! Hopefully the story will start to pick up now, this is pretty much the beginning of the tensions of confusions between Stefan and Damon. **

**Enjoy!**

Elena's POV

Elena lay on the couch, tapping my fingers against the soft material. Stefan had been gone for 3 hours now. _3 hours. _Where the hell could Damon have gone? Stefan knew his brother better than anyone, so why hadn't he found him yet?

Just as she pulled out her phone, ready to dial Stefan, yet again, she heard the front door shut with a loud bang. Crap. Somebody was mad. Usually vampires were silent as creatures in the night, you could only hear them if their temper had gone up. Clearly, this was one of those times. Elena braced herself.

She barely had time to get up before the two figures appeared in the doorway. Relief flowed through her, but it was short lived. Both boys looked … awful. Their clothes were ripped and raged, bruises and blood just beginning to dry, covering their bodies like some kind of fucked up war paint. Questions flowed through her mind. Who had done this to them, what the hell had happened? Anger ran through her veins like a fiery assault. Stefan had left her alone and wondering for hours to turn up like this, a naughty schoolboy?

"Are you going to tell me what's happened here?" Elena asked with narrowed eyes, hands on hips. It was a kind of confidence that she wasn't used, the kind of confidence usually reserved for Katherine, but she was so mad right now. It hadn't been done by anybody else; she knew that by their guilty expressions. No, this was 160 year olds having a brotherly spat over god knows what. Probably something stupid, it always was.

Stefan proceeded towards her cautiously. " Elena, I'm so sorry. I should've called, or something. I just… got tied up. I'm so sorry, please, let me make it up to you." His voice was tired and strained, but also filled with a kind of pleading sorrow. Her head turned away as the rage continued to flow through her body, but as soon as she turned around all that melted. Damn those stupid eyes, that puppy dog expression. It was no use trying to stay mad at him; it was impossible when he was so _sincere. _There were no promises to broken in his apology, just the truth.

It didn't mean she couldn't still be mad at the other Salvatore brother though. She whirled on Damon with speed and ferocity. "What did you do to him?" Her voice was sharp and unforgiving. Across the room she threw him daggers, her face set like stone. So, she was pretty aggravated when he gave her a smirk, full of amusement.

"Cool it there honey. Just a little sibling rough and tumble, nothing to get het up about." He said, still grinning. His hands were held up in mock surrender, making Elena want to slap him across the face hard enough to wipe of that ridiculous jeer. Thankfully for her, she didn't need to. The look he got from Stefan did it, the moment he turned around to face him, it dropped.

"One more word. One, and I swear to God you won't see another sunrise." His voice was angry. Not just angry, but frighteningly angry. It was low and quiet, full of unspoken threats. Elena took his shaking hand in hers, but had no idea why she was. What was he talking about? What thoughts. Her lips pursed, forming a question, but it was answered before she could get it out.

"Relax Elena. Your boyfriends just being a drama queen, as per usual. Seriously, leave it." Damon was still smug, when wasn't he, but it was muted now. His voice had a serious edge to it, making Elena more worried. Now she was sure something was up with the two of them.

"No!" Stefan's hand slammed down on the table with an ear shattering bang. His voice was loud and livid. "Don't talk to her, don't even speak another word to her! Just leave her alone Damon." He said, fuming and trembling. He then turned back to her, taking both her hands in his. Their eyes met, his clear and green as glass.

He spoke again, but more softly now. "Elena, god, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be making all your decisions for you. That's really not me. But you have to understand. I just can't. I can't let him be like that, like himself, around you. Not when he thinks like that, thinks the way he thinks. I thought I could let him stay around you to keep you safe, I thought I can handle but I can't. Not anymore, I love you so much. God, this is the most selfish thing I've ever said. Oh, I'm sorry, but I can't share you, not with him anyway." He was gently, but still quivering with fear of her reaction. His eyes begged for forgiveness, begged for her to not hate him.

Of course she didn't hate him. This whole ordeal made sense now. What always drove the Salvatores to fighting? Doppelgangers. First it was Katherine, now her. Obviously Damon had become too much for Stefan to handle. She guessed that now there was no imminent danger, he could afford to keep her away from him. Elena didn't object, being around Damon could make her seriously uncomfortable sometimes.

"Don't be such an idiot Stefan." She said softly, caressing his face gently. "I understand, and it's okay. I love you too; you know that right? It's okay." A reassuring smile crept across her face, and she leaned into a tight embrace. Her eyelids squeezed shut, but when she opened them, Damon's face was looking at her hard. Gone was the leer and the smirk, instead replaced by a contorted mask of features set tightly. His eyelids were pulled together they way they were when he was worried and anxious, his mouth set in a tense line.

It was his eyes though, that caused her breath to catch. His beautiful ice blue eyes that could pierce even the strongest heart. They were grey. Usually a mirage of colours made up their beauty, swirling and mixing into each other. Now, they were a dull, faded and gloomy.

Elena caught them for a minute, her own ones full of pity and sorrow, but also anger. He always did this, went one step too far. She knew she should forgive him, be the better person, make him promise to behave, but maybe it was better. Stefan had never been this cut up before; maybe it was better for some distance. 'Sorry'. She mouthed weakly, before he turned on his heel and left.


	5. Sex (not) on Fire

**Ooh look, back to Damon again! As a writer, Damon is a character that is equally fun, and challenging to write. So suffice to say I had a lot of fun writing this one. This particular scene is set in New York, following Damon a week after he left Stefan and Elena.**

**Enjoy!**

Damon's POV

Damon let out a long groan as he stretched his arms, looking around the room. At first he panicked, he had no idea where he was. Then he remembered. New York. Still, the room's furnishings were unfamiliar. The battered and faded green sofa he lay on uncomfortably, the dark musty blue walls.

It all came back to him, slowly. Last night… drinking… a girl he picked up in a bar. They went back to her apartment, he remembered now. The rest, the rest was kind of obvious from the pile of both their clothes in a pile on the floor. Damon began to get up, and slip on his trousers quietly when she appeared. Her figure stood tall and confident in the frame of the doorway. He studied her, trying to remember why they hooked up. Her slim body was covered only by a black lacy bra, and matching underwear. She wasn't unattractive, a little fake maybe with bottle blonde curls and a face full of makeup, but still. Not the worst he could do.

It wasn't like he needed a reason anymore; it was just a way to pass the time, something to do that could make him forget for even a minute. Make him forget what he had left behind. The anger in her eyes as he left, it haunted him. Sex and whiskey were the only two things that could mute his nightmares. They never really went away, not really, but they could dampen them at least.

"Morning sleepyhead." The girl said, with a playful smile on her lips. Damon was about to open his mouth with a husky reply, when he realized he couldn't remember her name. Crap. Sophie… Sophia? Something like that? Ah well, he'd just have to go generic.

"Morning." He said, turning a corner of his mouth up and raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Surprised you can still walk after last night, sweet cheeks." It was such an overused expression he wanted to slap himself. And sweet cheeks?! What the hell was he thinking?

Apparently the mystery girl didn't seem to mind though. Not judging by the way she swayed her hips as she walked over him, her eyes lingering over his muscled body. God, they were so easy. You didn't even have to try, and they were all over you, it was quite pathetic really. Not that Damon had time to judge, they were just a distraction after all. Her exposed body straddled his as he lay back down on the couch, and he breathed in her scent slowly. Cheap perfume, the fruity scent of shampoo and her blood… Blood, blood, blood.

It was all that filled his nostrils. The metallic tang; and so much more. It smelled like all that was good in the world, in one place. Exotic fruits, and fine coffee. Like smelling pure heaven. It overtook all his senses, and he couldn't help himself. The blood ran around his eyes, and his sharp fangs pricked his lips before plunging themselves into her bare neck.

Damon sucked it up hungrily, the blood quenching his thirst, filling him up and overcoming every desire. Every desire but one. Elena.

Suddenly, he stopped, drawing away from the girl, and smearing his red covered mouth with his forearm. His breaths were heavy and panting, his eyes wide. Pulling away from her hastily, he began pulling on his shirt, and buckling up the pants.

"Damon? What's up?" Her voice was no longer seductive, but worried instead. God, why did they care? It made them so human, so innocent. And so much easier to hurt.

"Uh, nothing, I just gotta leave… thanks again." He garbled as he headed out the door. Damon knew that because he was Damon, he should've had some witty sarcastic remark that made her feel small, made him feel smaller and made him look like an asshole. But he didn't have the patience, didn't have the energy.

As soon as he was out the building and into the busy New York streets, he slipped into the nearest café and ordered a coffee. Lord knows he needed it. He sat there at the wooden table, head in hands. What the hell was wrong with him? It was the blood that had knocked him off. He knew that, he just didn't know why. Blood was what a vampire lived for, it was the reason for their existence, what kept them alive. Above all, blood was what a vampire desired. So why the fuck did _Elena_ seem to matter more than it.

Even when drinking, he wasn't fully quenched, fully satisfied. Because of her. She was still this big fucking puzzle piece missing from his soul, without her nothing was good. Nothing was worth it anymore. Nothing mattered.

As the burning liquid burned his tongue faster than it could heal, Damon knew what he had to do. He didn't want to, and yet he did more than anything.


	6. Sorry from Author

I'm really, really sorry but I am unable to finish this story. I just have too much going on with course work, and can't find enough time. Sorry to let you guys down.


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